Bombay

It’s only when that little shuttle of metal

Runs so fast, it runs out of ground,

And thrusts itself into the sky

That you feel something –

Stronger than gravity,

More ancient than lust –

Pull you back to this brimming pot of human flesh and iron will.

 

And you’d jump with no parachute.

 

Like a claw of light reaching out

Into the blackness of the sea,

This thin, oddly shaped strip of land glows on.

 

Forged by those devoured by passion,

And by those devoured by greed,

The city will make sure

That you beg for more,

Until you have nothing to beg for.

 

Where money moves faster than time,

And time costs more than money,

Neither spoils of war

Are offered to the weak.

 

Put your makeup on,

Hide your bruises now,

She is waiting.

 

Bombay.